“I see,” said Colonel Henderson.
“If they can put fear in the hearts of the whites,” continued Boone, “the whites will not venture into the wilderness. A settler killed now and then is the common way; but there are others, and I’ve heard a warning spoken by a prophet hung with totems before to-day.”
The boy who had been staring after the figure of Gray Lizard now spoke.
“I’ve been wondering where I saw him before, and now I’ve remembered, Uncle Dick,” said he. “Yesterday I rode up the river to visit the camp of the young braves who are to take part in the games. It was there I saw him; among the lodges.”
“Ah!” said Boone; “and so the braves have come in for the games, eh?”
“More than a score of them,” replied the lad. “And a fine looking lot they are, sir,” with admiration.
The backwoodsman nodded.
“They are sure to be,” said he, grimly. “The redskins seldom send any but the pick of their villages.”
“It’s been three days since they pitched their camp,” said the lad. “And they’ve been hard at work ever since, practicing with their bows and rifles, and throwing their hatchets at marks. There’s a good runner or two among them,” added the boy; “and they have some fine horses.”
“I’ve always been against these games,” said Daniel Boone, as he shook his head.